Asking For Help
by Lying In An Angels Arms
Summary: Draco is a Malfoy, they never ask for help. Snape is a Slytherin, they never offer it but Snape can't just sit by idly and watch this Malfoy self destruct. 'My one true regret was not being able to save you.' Canon Compliant. No Slash.


Draco slipped from the Room Of Requirements, breathing heavily and tense. The cabinets were almost finished. Almost ready. Then the invasion could begin. Draco felt exhilarated and terrified. He was helping the war. He was doing something. He was happy! He was...afraid.

He couldn't kill...not a man so..so...Dumbledore. True, the old man was far from an innocent and he'd done his fair share of wrong-doings but Draco didn't see why it had to come to rest on _his_ shoulders to make him pay. Why not someone else?

"Mr. Malfoy."

Draco jumped and spun around, tightly spring and almost shaking with tension. He met the dark eyes of his potions master and longed to fix his appearance. His hair would be lax, hanging around his face, he knew and his eyes would be sunken and raw from lack of sleep. He would be pale too, he'd barely been outside in the last month. He'd probably have frown lines and he'd be ugly. Just...ugly.

"Professor," Draco greeted, tone stilted and formal.

Snape frowned and Draco resisted the urge to mimic the gesture. The dull eyes kept Draco's locked in their sight, holding them firm. It didn't take a legimins to see Snape's thoughts.

"I don't need any help," Draco snarled before Snape could form the suggestion. Snape sneered.

"Of course not," Snape mocked coldly and Draco withheld a flinch. "Not a Malfoy."

_Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. A Malfoy. Act like a Malfoy. A Malfoy. Malfoy. Act! _

Draco schooled his features and wiped them blank. Snape continued to watch, looking disgusted.

"Do you need anything, Professor?" Draco asked sharply. His tone was blank.

Snape scanned the boy's face and looked away with a frown. "Go to bed, Mr. Malfoy. You are out after curfew."

Draco sneered and pushed passed the elder man, purposely bumping shoulders.

He had made it halfway down the hall before his name was called.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco half turned and looked back over his shoulder. Snape wasn't looking at him but his next words left no doubt about who he was talking to. "To stand alone does not make one strong, instead he who refuses help for sake of pride alone is nothing more then a fool." Coal eyes locked with grey. "Remember that."

Draco swallowed. "Of course, Professor." His words were blank.

Snape sneered. "Ten points from Slytherin. Get back to the dorms."

Draco left without protest, the silence lingering behind him deafening.

.

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"I didn't need your help!"

A crash echoed in the quiet house. A second soon followed before the raging teen was subdued by his companion.

"Be quiet."

"NO! I was doing FINE without you. Why did you have to BUT IN and STEAL MY SUCCESS?"

"Success? You had lowered your wand, you fool! Dumbledore would not have hesitated to disarm you and then were would you be? In some two-bit Auror cell wasting away!"

"You don't care! Why should you care!"

"I care because I made a promise to your mother. If it were up to me, I would have let you fall." The boy was thrown away from the man in disgust. "Perhaps the fall would have knocked some sense into that empty head of yours."

"Shut up! I didn't need your help then and I don't need it now! Leave me alone!"

A door slammed as the teen retreated to the ratty bathroom, locking the door firmly behind him. He raged silently, wanting desperately to scream. He'd failed. What good was he now? He'd failed. Failed the Dark Lord. Failed his family. Failed his friends. Failed _himself_.

A scream bubbled in his throat, coming out as a stifled groan as his fist flew through the air. It connected with the vanity mirror. He watched as, in slow motion, the mirror shattered beneath his fist. Shards flew through the air, cutting his skin and sparkling the air.

He sunk to his knees amidst the broken mirror, staring with disgustingly misty eyes at the mess he'd made. He ignored the banging on the door and the yells for him to open up. He didn't need help. He didn't.

.

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"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy...but Severus Snape was amongst the causalities of war...these things happen...I-I'm sorry, sir?"

"...get out."

"S-sorry, what?"

"GET OUT!"

A crash followed as the messenger ran from the room, leaving the numb blond alone in his misery. He didn't need those fake words of sympathy. He was fine on his own.

.

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A year passed and Draco lived on. The days were long and hard, the nights passing slowly under the cover of darkness. He found a job at an apothecary stocking shelves. He and his mother lived at a half-way house until they'd earned up enough for a cheap, one bedroom apartment. Draco slept on the couch and cooked every day. His mother sat in the chair by the window and watched the sun move across the sky. Occasionally she'd talk but it would only be ramblings.

A good day in Draco Malfoy's live was the day his mother spoke and did not mistake him for his father. Draco lived each day like it was his first, a new challenge to face.

This day was like no other though. The anniversary of the end of the war.

Everyone was celebrating, enjoying life but Draco couldn't forget.

So he left his mother in care of the elderly neighbour and her four daughters. He left the apartment and drifted from street to street until he reached Diagon Alley. He slipped in unnoticed behind a crowd of rowdy kids, drinking to the fallen soldiers. It didn't take long after that to reach the memorial where people had flocked to the pay their respects. Draco walked away from the crowd to a less populated area. The fallen Death Eaters.

Somehow, Draco was not surprised to see a familiar blond haired man kneeling by the grave.

Lucius Malfoy looked up as his son approached. Dressed in prisoner garbs and watched closely by the two nearby Auror's, Lucius had used his only free day of the year to visit the grave of his oldest friend.

The two men were silent as Draco knelt beside his father, lowering the flowers onto the grave. He had stolen them from a flower cart outside the memorial when the clerk had been busy.

"We used to talk," Lucius finally started after ten minutes of silent mourning. Draco watched his father from the corner of his eye as he talked. "We used to talk about what we'd do...if we died...it was always a possibility, you see. We could be killed at a moments notice..." Lucius swallowed thickly. "He always said he'd come back...to gain more knowledge...to haunt all the people who wronged him..." Lucius let out a bitter laugh. "To haunt me too, he said." Draco caught his breath as he watched has father grieve. Lucius looked towards his son with a broken look. "but he didn't. He didn't come back." The plump lower lip of the rich aristocrat began to wobble. "Why? Why not? Wasn't I worth returning to?"

Draco looked away. He felt, rather then saw, his father break apart. Choked noises came from beside him but he couldn't look. He allowed the sounds of the nearby mourners to cloak his father's grief. He ignored the tears and the hand that reached out to him, desperate for some support. Draco ignored the bitter, aged old man until he left and Draco was alone by the grave.

He reached out a hand and brushed the factory made grave stone with the factory printed words. It was cold and cracked, grafetti staining it's once polished surface. Slurs against the Death Eaters desecrated the final resting place of a hero but Draco did nothing to clean them off.

"I guess we never knew you as well as we thought we did," Draco mused quietly, tracing the bulky letters on the grave stone with utmost care. "Did anyone?" He let his hand fall back to his side and closed his eyes tight for a second.

"Merlin, Snape," Draco choked out finally, blinking at the grave. "But I could really use your help right now."

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An excerpt from the letter enclosed in Severus Orion Snape's Final Will and Testimony, addressed to Draco Abraxas Malfoy.

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_I grew up with your father. He was my mentor. When you were born, I wanted to return the favor. I knew every piece of your life, Draco. I watched you grow. You were amongst my closest friends. A depressing thought, I know._

_I spent almost half of my life, and all of yours, trying to understand why you did what you did. Why you chose to fight with the other side. I came up with many theories, most which blamed your father or myself. To this day, as I write my final words, I still don't know. _

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_I have never been a sweet man nor have I ever softened my words, not for anyone. I will not change that. _

_I hope that by the time I die that the war will be over but I can not guarantee that fact. By now, you will have learnt of my involvement with the 'light' side and my betrayal of all you stood for. I will not apologise for doing what I did. _

_I will however, apologise for the things I did not do._

_Of all the things I've done and not done in my life, my one true regret was not being able to save you. _

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_Goodbye Draco._

_Live, if not for yourself, then for me._

_._

_._

**Author's Notes: **

**Well...Dear Merlin, that has to be the angsty'est thing I have ever written. YAY! **

**Written for Bad Mum's "Knowing Me, Knowing You" Challenge on the HPFC forum. Line used **_"__I guess we never knew him/her/name as well as we thought we did__."_** Prompts Used, **_mirror, letter, flowers, silence, cloak and eyes_.

**And Oh My God, this is completely Canon-Compliant xD Probably my first ever. **

**Anyway, Review Lovies! **

-Liaa

(PS. My BETA is currently AWOL thanks to hurricane Ike, so if anyone is interested in part time work/secondary BETA'ing, please e-mail/pm/leave a review. Thanks.)


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